Til the Fear is Leaving
by Muffy the Dough Slayer
Summary: "My name is Barry Allen." Or, Len finally learns the Flash's identity, and some fluff ensues. Part of the "All These Things That I've Done" series, takes place before IGSBINAS.


**A/N:** Hey, guys - so many of you asked for a new installment ASAP, and here you go :) It's not much, but it's something, I guess. I'm in the middle of a headache, so I apologize for mistakes and everything. I hope you enjoy this short piece. And reviews are love and life! They make me wanna write more with these two :)

PS: This is part of the "All These Things That I've Done" series, taking place before I've Got Soul but I'm Not a Soldier, and before A Pretty, Painted Picture, but after Last Call for Sin. It can be read standalone, though.

Story length: 2593

Begin!

* * *

 **'Til the Fear is Leaving**

The Flash has an insatiable appetite when it comes to sex, Len learns quickly enough.

It's only been two weeks since they started this thing, and they've had sex nearly a dozen times. Len is definitely not complaining; he might not have the same refractory period as the Flash, but he's all for this frenzied sex thing.

The only downside is the kid's need to wear his mask at all times, and the costume. He'll unzip it enough and shimmy out enough to do certain things, but otherwise he's always partially hidden. Len didn't think this would bother him so much when he first offered the deal – now he has this _need_ to see the kid completely unclothed, and without his mask. He likes the husky tone of the kid's voice and the half-lidded look in his eyes, but that doesn't help him put a name to the eyes or even really a face to the face…

But he doesn't bring it up, because he said he wouldn't. He said the kid could take his time, all he needed, and that everything that happened between them in bed would stay in bed, and never be brought up outside the bedroom.

But the thing is, he has never been good at having an itch he can't scratch. He needs to scratch it eventually or it's going to drive him insane. He's on edge, grouchy, according to Lisa. All because he has to stay his hand, and keep himself from snatching the mask off the Flash's face when they fall into bed together. He's just lucky Flash doesn't stay the night with him, afterward, otherwise he'd _really_ be tempted to sneak a peek at his face while the kid sleeps.

Flash might stay for a little while after sex, but they don't cuddle. They spoon manfully because that's what they are. It is not cuddling. And Lisa will never hear of it.

Another downside to the kid constantly being in his outfit is that now when Len's performing a heist and the Flash shows up, his pants get uncomfortably tight because, hey, that's how he looks in bed with that half-lidded gaze and breathy voice. So it's _really_ hard to concentrate on their game of cat and mouse when he's constantly picturing them in bed together.

He really needs to distance the suit from the Flash.

Also, calling him 'Flash' all the time is… odd. Because Flash doesn't call him 'Cold' all the time. Okay, well… usually it's something like Leonard or Snart, or Cold. But it's not all the time. Len would tell him to call him Len, but he has managed to keep from doing that for now. He doesn't want to get too close, after all; only the people closest to him call him Len, and Flash hasn't earned that yet. He doesn't even know the kid's name.

Maybe he'll get used to 'Leonard', but somehow he doubts it.

Currently he's sitting at the main safe house, watching TV. Lisa is out for the night, and he tries not to think about what she could possibly be doing. She's a grown woman; it is not his job to hover. That doesn't mean he likes it, though. She's probably with that Dillon guy again. Fuck, Len hates him.

Lisa only goes to him to get on Len's nerves, though. It's probably revenge for Len being such a prick lately, because of that itch he can't scratch.

He doesn't plan on seeing the Flash today; they just saw each other two nights ago. He doesn't have the kid's number, and the kid doesn't have his; Flash just usually shows up when he wants sex, and Len's usually here, when he's not committing a crime the Flash needs to stop.

He doesn't plan on seeing him tonight, but it happens anyway.

He hears this whooshing sound, and looks over to find the Flash suddenly standing next to the couch, in full Flash attire, as always. Len quirks a brow, taking a sip of the beer clasped lightly in his hand.

"Well, hello to you, too," he says with a nod of greeting. He's not impolite, after all.

Flash shifts his feet. "We should talk."

Never in the history of mankind have those words brought good tidings.

Len takes another chug of his beer. He feels like he's going to need it for this conversation, whatever it is. The kid found someone better, he thinks; it's over between them, and that's fine. Perfectly fine. That was a rule, after all; he doesn't share, but if Flash finds someone he thinks is worth his time of day and wants to test it out, a real relationship, then he's perfectly fine to end things with Len.

That's how this works, after all. It's just stress relief. It's fine.

Perfectly fine.

Another drink.

"Alright," he says finally, when the kid seems like he's waiting for a response. "Talk, kid."

Flash scowls. "I'm not a kid – I'm twenty-five."

Len shrugs; it's a familiar argument. "Talk," he says again.

If he's ending it, then he needs to end it.

The Flash hesitates, shifting on his feet again, bouncing back and forth. "Uh – well, okay… so I did a little thinking…"

Just as Len suspected.

And it's fine. It's fine.

It's _fine_.

"Alright," he says, taking another long chug of his beer. "And what have you decided?"

It's fine. It's fine.

No strings, after all. That was the deal, and it's only been two weeks.

It's fine.

"I went to a karaoke bar tonight," the Flash says, which… no, Len definitely wasn't expecting that. He blinks at the Flash in surprise. "It was – fun. I had fun. But I also realized something important."

Len watches him for a moment. He honestly has no idea where this is going. He isn't easily caught off guard, and it's not a feeling he likes. "And… what was that?"

The Flash takes in a slow breath. A knot forms in Len's stomach. "I'm tired of hiding," Flash says with a heavy exhale, green eyes focused solely on Len.

Len quirks a brow. "Oh?"

"I've been so caught up in… things in my past, and this crush I have on my best friend…"

Len is… intrigued, to say the least. Learning tidbits of the Flash is something he doesn't actively do, but it happens anyway. And every new piece of information he learns, he stores away in a box of puzzle pieces to be put together later, when he has a fuller image of what he's working with.

"And I'm tired of it," Flash continues, determination flashing briefly in his eyes. "I'm sick and tired of letting it define me, and… I need to let it go, and move on."

Len says nothing, mostly because he's at a loss for words. He's not sure where they stand right now; is the Flash ending things or not? He's so confused. So he stays silent, and Flash keeps talking.

"And we're having fun, and I'm tired of hiding all the time," Flash continues irritably. "And the crazy thing is I actually… _trust_ you. You meant what you said when you said nothing would be used against me."

Len nods, unable to find his voice at the moment. Flash trusts him. That's… an odd feeling in his stomach.

Flash's shoulders slump. "I get tired of wearing the suit all the time…"

Len puts the beer bottle on the coffee table, and pushes to his feet so he's standing in front of the Flash. The kid is just barely taller than him. "Show me," he says, a _chill_ inching up his spine as the words tumble from his lips. "Let me see the man beneath the mask."

He doesn't even know Flash's real name – he's just been calling him Flash, and Scarlet, or Red.

Or kid.

A name would be nice.

A face would be better.

Both would be great.

"Show me," he says again. "Show me who you are, Scarlet."

The Flash takes in a slow, tremulous breath, before his hand slowly raises, fingers curling around the part of the mask beneath his eyes. Len watches, entranced, as Flash pulls back the cowl of his mask, and he's greeted with disheveled brunette hair, pale, freckled skin, and piercing green eyes which look much more vibrant without the red mask. Another piece of the puzzle fits into place.

"What's your name, Scarlet?" Len asks, because that's important. He takes a step closer. Flash doesn't move away.

Mere inches separate them now. Close enough to touch, but Len stays his hand for the moment.

Flash takes in another ragged breath. Despite his earlier confidence and frustration, this is obviously hard for him, but he has to know Len won't use any of this against him. He has no desire to destroy the Flash like that; plus, he is a man of his word, and he did say anything he learned by them seeing each other like this, he would not use against him. And he always keeps his word.

"My name…" Flash says, then stops, chewing on his lower lip. "My name is Barry Allen."

 _Barry Allen_.

Somehow, it fits, Len thinks. "Barry," he says, testing the name on his tongue. It rolls off smoothly, with this little lilt near the end, and he likes the way is tastes. "Barry. Short for Bartholomew?"

The kid, Barry, scowls. "Call me that and I will walk out and never return."

Len barks out a quick laugh, unable to stop himself. The kid's secretly having sex with a criminal, but he draws the line at the use of his full name.

"Barry," Len says, testing the name again. Yeah, he likes how it rolls off his tongue, and the way the kid smirks at him.

He has a nice mouth, after all.

It's even nicer when it's vibrating around him.

"I won't use it against you, kid," Len assures him at the slightly apprehensive look on Barry's face.

Barry shrugs. "Well – you did say you wouldn't…"

"I am a man of my word," Len tells him. "In the meantime, though – I'm hungry, and I have a pizza place on speed dial."

"Sounds great," Barry says with a sigh. "I warn you, though, I eat a lot."

They haven't exactly eaten together yet; it's mostly just been about the sex. Barry shows up, they have sex, and the kid leaves. But that's all it's supposed to be, so Len's not entirely sure why he's offering food now.

Maybe because the kid trusted him enough to show him his face and tell him his name, finally, and that has to mean something.

xXx

Barry Allen is a CSI for CCPD. Barry Allen is twenty-five-years-old, and must get called 'kid' a lot because it frustrates him so much. Barry Allen is intelligent, and bashful, and he laughs at Len's puns. Barry Allen is the Flash.

It's been three days since Barry revealed his face to Len, and told him his name. Since then Len's done a little digging – not for nefarious purposes, but because he's curious, and that's what he does. He investigates, plans, thinks things through. So of course he wanted to learn all he could about Barry Allen.

He's intrigued. According to the kid's background, his father killed his mother in front of him when he was eleven-years-old, and is locked away in Iron Heights. Joe West was the arresting officer, but took Barry in anyway, and helped him secure a job at CCPD, not that Barry wasn't qualified for it – he graduated college early, and with honors. He's definitely qualified.

Len never went to college. Hell, he didn't even complete high school. By that time he was old enough to be on his own, had committed a few petty thefts to save up some money, and he got the hell out of dodge when he could. That meant quitting school his junior year, and getting out of there. That meant leaving Lisa with their father while he went in search of big money so she could go to college – it was always her dream to do so, after all. Lisa assured him she could handle their father. Len believed her, because for all the terrible things Lewis Snart was, he didn't hit his daughter. He only ever raised a hand against Len.

So maybe if he was gone, things would change, and Lewis might be nicer – who knew?

The wishful thinking of a seventeen-year-old.

He came back to see his sister off to college, after random phone calls and texts and money transfers, and realized how very wrong he was. She came equipped with new scars, fresh ones, including one near her neck, and that was unacceptable. Len wanted to kill Lewis then, but Lisa stopped him. Stayed his hand. Told him it didn't matter now because she was moving away to college, and Lewis would be alone.

It did little to ease his guilt, though.

Planning perfect heists helped alleviate some of that guilt. Finally getting Lewis arrested when he tried to follow Lisa to college… well, that really helped alleviate his guilt. He finally got rid of the man.

Lisa finished college and then joined him on his heists. He always made sure to keep her name out of everything, and to not ever leave any trace of her behind. If she wants to leave this life one day, she'll have a life to go back to. On paper, Lisa Snart isn't anything like her brother, the criminal Leonard Snart.

If Len wants to leave this life one day – very unlikely, he decides – he'll have a rough time of it, considering his name is tarnished beyond repair.

"Leonard?"

Len blinks a few times. It's still dark in his room, and there's still a warmth pressed against his side. He looks over at Barry, who was sleeping just a few minutes ago. He came over to have sex, but they wound up just staying up late watching movies until they eventually fell asleep. It's the first time they've shared a bed in this way – with sleep instead of sex.

It's… not bad, he decides.

And all because he hasn't seen Star Wars. Barry said he outright refused to have sex with someone who hasn't seen Star Wars, and thus forced him to start watching them. They made it through two movies before they fell asleep.

Now Barry's pressed into his side.

It's not cuddling. It's definitely not cuddling.

Barry is warm…

And comfortable, he begrudgingly admits to himself.

He tries to think of the last time one of his 'partners' has slept against his side. Fails to think of one. There's a burst of warmth in his stomach at the half-lidded look the kid sends him.

He moves just enough to press a quick kiss against the kid's lips. Even those are warm.

"Leonard?" Barry asks, quirking a brow as he smirks.

 _Leonard_. He doubts he'll ever get used to that, and Barry has told him his name, so…

"Call me Len, kid."

"Len," the kid tests it out, and smiles, so he must like it. "I can do that. Don't like Leonard?"

"Do you like Bartholomew?" Len counters, and Barry laughs, settling further into his side.

"Point taken," Barry says easily. "Len."

Len definitely likes how Barry says his name, he decides as he moves just enough so their mouths can connect once more. "Barry," he replies.

"Len."

"Scarlet."

Barry laughs again.

He has a nice laugh, too.


End file.
